


Sandbox Rules

by skullcandy11



Category: Psych, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Familial plot twist, Gen, i don’t know how to tag, really you can guess from the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 08:52:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13701099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullcandy11/pseuds/skullcandy11
Summary: Shawn comes clean about not being a psychic (no specific time set). Chief Vick shares a story in response.Cross posted on FF





	Sandbox Rules

Shawn was worried. Gus had been pushing it for some time now, and he had finally worn him down. He was withholding anything and everything pineapple until he came clean. Now he was going to tell Chief Vick the truth. He had solved a few cases by now, but Detective Lassiter’s mutterings about him being a fraud were getting louder and the rest of the station was starting to listen in. He and Gus had a huge argument after he had gotten one of his predictions wrong. It was always something! He thought he had figured everything out this time! The one guy he had suspected fit the profile perfectly. He had means, motive, opportunity, no alibi, and it seemed like he was now running from the cops because no one could find him. There was only one problem. He was dead. It was always something! A good number of officers - including Lassie and Jules - were there too, and now he was walking down death row to the Chief’s office whilst wiping the proverbial egg off his face because of it. 

He knocked on the open door as he walked in, his head hanging low. He could see the Chief’s questioning look out of the corner of his eye as he turned to close the door, but he stayed silent up until he was standing in front of her. 

“Mr. Spencer, what can I help you with?”

“Ma’am. I need to come clean,” he said, still doing his best to not meet her eyes. “I’m not a psychic. I’ve lied to you and the department. It all started when Det. Lassiter suspected me of a crime when I called in a tip. I just kept trying to tell him, but he just kept accusing me, pushing at me, saying I did it! He wouldn’t listen to me! So finally I lied. I told him and his partner I was a psychic.” 

The Chief’s eyebrows appeared to raise a little bit more with each sentence he spoke. He was losing his nerve, but he knew he had to keep going. He had already dug his grave, might as well lay down in it and help fill it up afterwards. 

“I have an eidetic memory. I can remember anything and everything I see. It is kind of hereditary. My mom has a tonal eidetic memory - she remember everything she hears - which is why she doesn’t have to record any of her sessions. Also given how much of a cop my dad was, it was always just a given in my house that I would one day be a cop. My dad stated training me when I was four, and he never stops, to this day. Anyway, I just needed to tell you. I understand if I need to go to jail for committing fraud. I’m really sorry if anyone I helped put away gets to walk because I’m going to jail for this. If I could, I would do anything you need me to to help convict them of something else so they don’t get off scott free just because I messed up.”

At that, he collapsed into one of the chairs in front of her desk, exhausted from the word vomit that just came spewing from his mouth. He didn’t mean to say that much, but by the end he just couldn’t stop himself! Now that he had gotten all that off his chest, though, the nerves rushed back full force, and he couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing because the Chief hadn’t said anything yet. 

It was quiet for a few minutes, the silence eating away at him now just as much as the Chief’s stare was. She still hasn’t looked away from him yet. Yeesh, why hasn’t she said anything yet! Just call for dear old Lassie and get this over with! Why wasn’t she speaking!

Finally, she spoke, “Mr. Spencer, do you mind if I tell you a story?”

Shawn looked at her with shock and confusion on his face. He just confessed to fraud to the Chief of Police and she is asking if he cared for a bedtime story?!

“Did you know I have a brother?” she said. “It’s true, he moved to England with our sister a few years after he turned 18. Got tired of the California sun I guess. Anyway, my brother was a war vet, Afghanistan, mind you, and he was honorably discharged after getting wounded in the line of duty. He told me a while back that he was having trouble paying his rent since he got back and had started to look for someone to share an apartment with. Lo and behold, a few days later he calls me again and tells me that he met an old friend on the street who told him he knew of another man looking for a roommate because his job wasn’t paying as well as he had hoped. So he goes and meets this man, and says he might have found someone to rent with. He calls me again a few days later, all in a rage!” The Chief chuckles as she looks off into the distance as she shares this story. “”My new flatmate is a loon!”, he cries! “That, or the most brilliant man I have ever met. It honestly depends on the latest thing that comes out of his mouth!”” At this point, she looks back at Shawn, the pause making him look up at her, and now she holds his gaze captive with her next words. 

“He tells me that Sherlock is the most annoying man he has ever met. He is so arrogant that he even created a new job title purely to say he is the only one in the world who can hold such a position. He tells me that he is about done with hearing the phrase ‘the world’s only consulting detective’ and that he will most definitely harm the next person who raves about such a job on the blog he writes.”

Now a slow smile spreads across her face and you can hear the mischief in her voice as she says, “Mr. Spencer, what do say we bring Sherlock down a peg or two? John tells me he is hopeless when it comes to sharing. I say we teach Mr. Holmes a lesson on sandbox rules and see if he can handle being one of the two ‘world’s only consulting detectives’, don’t you?”

Shawn’s eyes had gotten wider as the story progressed, and by the end he was staring at her with hopeful disbelief in his eyes.

“As it is, I don’t believe I ever got around to signing that psychic consultant contract we agreed upon, and I have been making up for it by noting ‘SBPD Consultant’ on all of your paychecks. And really, Mr. Spencer, it shouldn’t be too hard to change the caption under the name of your workplace on your storefront window, now should it? In fact, I do believe this this paycheck for you latest for for us should definitely cover any costs you might have employing the previous company you used to stencil your window. Now, is there anything else you might need today Mr. Spencer?”

Shawn looked at her, and said the only thing that he really could in a situation like this.

“No Chief, that is all for today. Have a nice day.”

By the time he had risen to leave, the Chief had already gone back to work, with nothing to show for their previous conversation but for the small smile on her lips, which was almost a smirk that would not be out of place on a cat that had caught the canary, or on a smug big sister, as she said, “You too, Mr. Spencer. You too.”


End file.
